


Operation Thanksgiving

by Cuppa_tea_love



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2019-08-10
Packaged: 2019-08-26 16:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16685167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuppa_tea_love/pseuds/Cuppa_tea_love
Summary: Jack flies to LA for what he thinks will be a fairly dull Thanksgiving with Carter and Sousa.





	1. An Unexpected Invitation

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Quo Vadis?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3804475) by [Paeonia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paeonia/pseuds/Paeonia). 



> Thank you to the wonderful Paeonia for lending me her beautiful characters, and for giving me lots of help and support for this wee project!

_November 1948_    

"Chief Thompson," greeted Mr Jarvis cheerfully from the runway tarmac.   

"Afternoon, Jarvis," replied Jack, with a tip of the hat.   

"Allow me to take your suitcase, Chief."     

"Uh, sure.  Thanks."  As often happened when Jarvis was in full butler mode, Jack didn't quite know what to do with himself.  The man wore so many hats, it was hard to keep up.  For the months that they had been living under the same roof, Jarvis had sometimes behaved like the host and sometimes the servant.  When Stark wasn't around, he would tone down his butler formalities a little and relax with them in the mansion.  Other times he carried on like an agent, as Carter  _would_  keep on bringing him in on cases.  It had left Jack a little on edge, never quite sure how he was supposed to talk to him.  For the most part, however, they had settled into a relationship that he certainly wouldn't call a friendship, but more like the familiarity of work colleagues.  

"How's Ana?" Jack enquired politely, stepping into the passenger seat.   

"She is doing splendidly, thank you.  I believe she is looking forward to having her cribbage partner back in the house," he said with a nod to Jack. 

"Well, I guess I'll have a bit of time on my hands again," he said casually, watching to see if Jarvis contradicted him.  It was Tuesday of Thanksgiving week, and he was to be in L.A. until Saturday morning.  Sousa had called to invite him about a month ago, and if he was honest, he'd been immediately tempted.  There was something about a flying visit to L.A. that got the blood pumping, mostly because it usually involved diving headfirst with Sousa and Carter into a desperate mission thrown together on a shoestring.  But Jack had already signed himself up for all the Thanksgiving graveyard shifts (no reason the office shouldn't benefit from the fact that he was no longer on speaking terms with his family), so he'd had to decline.  Sousa had started to try and persuade him, when the phone had been snatched out of his hand by Carter, who proceeded to inform him briskly that he was coming for Thanksgiving dinner if he valued his life, and spelling out exactly how it was all to be managed.  And, well, somehow, here he was.   

There hadn't been any mention of a case, or a mission, or even an administrative crisis needing his attention, however, and he was starting to wonder if he really had just signed himself up for dinner and nothing more.  No, surely not.  Carter would have something up her sleeve.  Wouldn't she?  Something so dangerous and secret she couldn't talk about it over the phone.  It wasn't as if Thanksgiving would mean much to her.  And there was definitely something strange about the fact that they'd wanted him for Tuesday to Saturday, not Thursday to Sunday.  He tried a different angle with Jarvis, to see if he would give anything away.  "Carter and Sousa got you running around getting this big dinner ready for Thursday?"   

"Only inasmuch as I am required to act as a chauffeur, which I am always happy to do," Mr Jarvis replied.  "I shall be returning to the airport later today with Chief Sousa, to collect his family."   

Jack spun his head round to look at him.  "His... _what?_ " he sputtered.  

"Yes, and I believe the elder Mr Sousa and his two daughters have everything planned for our Thanksgiving dinner," continued Mr Jarvis.  "I have been collecting ingredients according to their instructions for several days, and I have every confidence that they will treat us to an excellent meal.  I understand that feasts are something of a family tradition."  Jack groaned.  Just what he needed, a houseful of puppy-eyed Sousas breathing down his neck for four days, probably lavishing affection on everyone in their path and making sickeningly sweet speeches about how thankful they were for darling Danny.  

"So there's just three of them coming?"  Maybe he could find a way to sneak out to a bar in the evenings.  He knew his way around the area pretty well by now, and Stark had so many cars that he wouldn't miss one.  The main trick would be avoiding a dressing-down from Carter.  

"Not quite.  Chief Sousa's sisters are both married," said Mr Jarvis.   

"They're bringing their husbands?"  Well, that might not be so bad.  One or both of them might be glad to escape to a bar, too, if they had these sorts of family things thrown at them with tedious regularity.   

"And the children, of course."   

Jack was starting to feel faintly giddy.  "Kids?" he rasped.  "H-how many kids?"  

"I believe Mr and Mrs Escobar have three children, and Mr and Mrs Przybylak have one, an infant."  Jack swallowed.  Four kids, four brothers and sisters, Papa Sousa, not to mention the original Sousa (whom he was going to beat to a pulp as soon as he saw him), Carter, two Jarvises and Howard Stark.  And him.  

If Carter hadn't lined up something for him to shoot at on this trip, he was going to kill her.   

"Okay," Jack said as steadily as he could manage, "So we got ourselves a house full of Sousas.  They all staying at the mansion?"     

"Indeed, Chief Thompson."  Jarvis looked indecently excited about the prospect, in Jack's opinion.  "That is to say, the Escobar and Przybylak families will be staying in the mansion, where there is plenty of room for the children.  You and Mr Sousa will be staying in guest bedrooms at Chief Sousa's house...to begin with, at least."  

 _"What?"_  choked Jack, envisaging being trapped in a small house with two Sousas, who would no doubt try to pry into his soul with their earnest wholesomeness.   "Why are we off in our own little bachelors' house?  Why can't I stay in the mansion, too?" It came out sounding more petulant than he'd intended.   

"I assure you the arrangements are purely for the purposes of sleeping," said Mr Jarvis.  "The intention is that we all spend every day together in the mansion, and the evenings."  Great.  That was just great.  He wouldn't even have his own room to escape to.  There was going to be no getting away from this nightmare.   

Mr Jarvis pulled up in front of the mansion a short while later, saying that Chief Sousa was here for the day and would take Jack back to his house sometime after dinner.  As Jack stepped out of the car, feeling rumpled from hours of travel, the man himself appeared at the door, complete with lurid shirt, crutch and welcoming grin.   

"Good to see ya, Jack," said Daniel, holding out his hand.  "How was your trip?"   

"Oh, swell," answered Jack grumpily, shaking the offered hand.  "Jarvis here has been filling me in on the swarm of Sousas, young and old, that are gonna be descending on us this week."   

Daniel laughed at that assessment.  "Yeah, they do tend to make quite an impression," he said with a twinkle in his eye.  "And I can't wait to see what they make of you!"  Jack didn't like the sound of that at  _all_.  "I'm actually amazed we're managing to get them all here at the same time."  

"Well, lucky us," muttered Jack as they made their way inside.  "All I can say is, this better be some feast you're planning, Sousa," he said, with a shake of his head.  "I mean, I appreciate the invitation and all, but it's a heck of a long way to travel just for Thanksgiving dinner and the family sideshow."   

"Oh.  Yeah.  Uh...about that," said Daniel.  "There is no Thanksgiving dinner."   

Relief flooded over Jack.  So there was a case after all.  Something gritty and demanding for him to sink his teeth into while avoiding the family niceties.  He played along in a surprised voice:  "What?  Then why the hell am I...?"   

"Oh, no, I mean, there is," said Daniel hurriedly.  "It's just...um..." – he scratched the back of his head nervously – "It's going to be a rehearsal dinner."   


	2. Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wait...what???

Daniel had never seen Jack's jaw drop before.  It was priceless.     

"You okay, there?" he asked, with a sheepish grin that he couldn't quite hold back.     

"I...well...uh..." Jack stammered.   

"The word you're looking for is 'Congratulations'," said a smooth voice behind him, and Jack spun around to see Peggy coming towards them, looking put-together as always in a tailored blue dress, dangling a cocktail glamorously in one hand.  There was an impish smile dancing in her eyes as she leaned in to kiss his cheek in greeting.  

"Yeah...yeah, that," he managed, feeling momentarily as dumbstruck as he had the day she had first clicked her heels through the SSR, turning heads and transforming competent men into stuttering puddles of nerves.  "But what...I don't..." he gaped at the pair of them, embarrassing himself further every second.  " _Explain yourselves!_ "

"We're sorry we didn't tell you, Jack," said Peggy, "but we couldn't mention it in writing or over the phone."   

"It's been strictly need-to-know," winked Daniel.   "Code-name:   _Operation Thanksgiving_."  Jack groaned again.

"You know I still get regular taunts from Dottie Underwood," Peggy continued, "everything from friendly notes to dead bodies on the doorstep..."   

"It's enough to let us know she's always watching us," said Daniel, "and we reckon she wouldn't be able to resist pulling something if we had a big public wedding."  He shared a serious look with Peggy.  "We couldn't risk that with all our friends and family there."   

"So we hatched this plan a few months ago," continued Peggy, "to make it look like just another family Thanksgiving, so we'd have a good reason for getting a few people together, at least."

Jack found his voice at last.  "I did wonder why you of all people were so hell-bent on a Thanksgiving get-together, Marge."  

Peggy gave him a withering look.  "I can embrace the local customs, thank you very much," she said loftily.  "From Friday, I'm going to be half American, anyway.  So I'm stuck with all of you ridiculous people and your ways."   

"No one forced you to move here, dear," said Daniel, raising his hand defensively.  He turned to go and see Jarvis about drinks, saying over his shoulder, "And I can't help it if my irresistible charms convinced you to stay!"  He ducked around the corner before she could retaliate.   

"You should have told me," muttered Jack to Peggy.   

"And miss the look on your face?"   

"I mean about the Sousa family circus coming to town."   

Peggy raised her eyebrow coyly.  "Would you have come?"   

Jack laughed.  "Not in a hundred years!"   

"Well, there you go."  They started heading outside.   

A thought occurred to Jack.  "So where's your family in all this?" he asked.  "Surely Stark could spring for a plane ticket for your folks?"   

Peggy smiled sadly.  "He offered, but my father has a bad heart and can't fly, and my mother didn't want to leave him to come on her own.  But we told them our plans when we were there in September, and Mum got to take me shopping for a few things, which was nice."   

"And you still haven't told them about...?"   

"Michael? No," she sighed.  "Not until we know what's really going on."  Jack nodded mutely, a flicker of emotion passing briefly over his face.  "We'll find him, Jack," said Peggy gently.   

He laughed shortly.  "Shouldn't I be the one reassuring you?"   

"I know what it means to you."   

Jack looked grim.  "It's been over a year, Carter.  He clearly doesn't want to be found, and he's clearly real good at hiding."  The damage was done.  He'd never get those months back, but by and large he'd come through unscathed.  A bullet wound was nothing compared to the relentless pain of having your family torn apart – even if they didn't know it.     

He suddenly remembered this was her wedding week, and felt like a jerk for bringing up a painful subject.  He pulled together a grin and said, "So how do you get on with the Sousa horde?  Bet they never imagined having a fancy English gal in the family!"   

Peggy laughed.  "They are a bit of a whirlwind," she admitted.  "Couldn't be more different from what I grew up with.  Thankfully my roommate back in New York was from a big Italian family, and she took me to a few family gatherings, so I'd had a bit of practice at the whole concept.  But you'll love them," she said, in a voice that implied "or else".   Jack groaned, for what felt like about the tenth time today, which only fuelled Peggy's laughter.  "You look like you're going to the gallows!" she said happily.  "This is going to be fantastic."   

"You enjoy my pain, don't you?"   

"Always."   There was that glint in her eye again.  This light, playful side of her was something he'd rarely gotten to see lately.  It had been a long, hard year, and none of them had laughed anywhere near enough.   

"Suits you," he said gruffly.  "The blushing bride routine."  He gave her a gentle elbow in the ribs.  "You look happy, kid."   

Peggy smiled more radiantly than he thought anyone could smile.  "I am, Jack," she assured him.  "Though it hardly feels real.  We've mostly just been calling it ‘Thanksgiving’, even between ourselves – it feels strange calling it a wedding.  We’ve got a priest coming in on Friday morning, and we’ve asked him to arrive in plain clothes and change when he gets here.  That’s the only connection to anything overtly wedding-related we’ve risked.  We won't even buy rings until after it's a  _fait accompli._ " They both looked up as they heard Daniel coming out to join them, carrying drinks for himself and Jack somewhat unsteadily, his crutch dangling from the crook of his elbow.  

"You just make sure Sousa knows, if he hurts you, I'm coming for him," said Jack, loudly enough for Daniel to hear.   

Peggy laughed again.  "If he hurts me,  _I'll_  be coming for him!  Which do you think is a stronger deterrent?"  

"Fair point," he conceded, taking his drink.  "Looking snappy there, Sousa," he added, nodding down towards his leg.   

"Early wedding present from Stark," grinned Daniel, lifting his pants leg slightly to reveal a sleek metal calf.  "Titanium alloy.  It's incredibly light and strong, and he's worked some Stark magic into the knee that's outta this world.  I'm still getting used to it, but hopefully I can do without this thing" – he indicated his crutch – "for Thanksgiving."  Jack presumed this meant walking down the aisle.  

"You sure it's not gonna implode on you, or break your bones, or turn you into a rage monster again?" asked Jack, eyeing the leg with suspicion.   

"The thought has occurred to me," said Daniel grimly, "but he's been working on it on and off for years.  Since New York, really.  I'm sure he's worked out all the kinks."  He took a sip of his drink and looked away.  "The whole thing got shelved for a while with, you know, everything earlier this year."  Daniel had had a nasty infection in his leg back in April which had got out of hand alarmingly quickly, and for a few days they'd wondered if he'd even pull through, or possibly lose more of his leg.  It was a stressful time for everyone to have another Chief down mere months after getting Jack back on his feet, and Peggy had had to hold the West Coast SSR together almost single-handedly for a few weeks, for which Daniel was infinitely proud and grateful.  Thankfully, he'd come through the ordeal with no more lasting damage than a fright and a whole lot of frustration with himself.

After he had recovered, however, Stark had been spurred on to revisit the prosthetic leg project with renewed enthusiasm.  He'd been through so many mock-ups and revisions by now, trying to get it just right, that Daniel was frankly appalled at how much time and expense was being thrown at it.  He would never be able to repay it.  But by now, they were all so deeply entwined in each other's lives that no one was counting favours anymore.  And he wasn't such a fool as to be ungrateful.

"You'll be wanting one yourself once you see what Howard's kitted it out with," Peggy was saying.  "It does everything but fly.  There's a knife, lock-picks, four different screwdrivers..."   

"Remote activated tracking device," added Daniel, "mini Hotwire, spare bullets and an extra piece..."   

"You're walking round with a gun attached to your body, Sousa?" asked Jack in astonishment.   

"We all walk round with guns attached to our bodies every day," said Daniel reasonably.  "Anyway, I'm not keeping it loaded.  Maybe I'll load it right before big missions, but it's not easy to reach for a quick draw."   

"Well, what I want to know is how we can make these standard issue for field agents," said Jack.   

Peggy smirked.  "I told you you'd be jealous!"   

"You know, I think we draw the line at routine bodily mutilations," said Daniel seriously.  "I'm sure I read that in the SSR handbook somewhere..."   

"Oh don't pretend you're not loving it," snapped Jack. "You're officially at the top of the list of Agents You Want to be Kidnapped With."   

"Well, we all have our place on the team," grinned Daniel.  "I'll be the walking Swiss Army knife – which, for the record, was all I actually asked Stark to hide in there in the first place.  Anyway, some lousy thug has the bright idea to take it off me, and I'm back to being the last agent you want to be kidnapped with."   

"Oh, Jack, I have a Thanksgiving present for you," said Peggy suddenly.  "I won't be a moment."   

"You know we don't really do presents for Thanksgiving, Marge!" Jack called after her retreating back.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you about gift horses?" she shot back over her shoulder.

"Trojan horses, more like," Jack muttered, turning back to Daniel.  "What's she up to?"  Daniel just smiled and shrugged at him.  Jack cleared his throat.  "Listen, I never said properly before, but...congratulations, pal."  He clapped Daniel on the back.  "You did good.  You two...well, you're great together.  I'm real happy you're pulling this off."  

"Thanks, Jack" said Daniel, looking a little embarrassed at such an effusion of sentiment from Jack.

"You really had to stick me in a house with you and your old man, though?" Jack grumbled.  "I do  _not_ wanna listen to him going on at you all night long about how to treat a woman right."  He shuddered.  

Daniel laughed.  "Yeah, sorry.  He has this strict idea about all the single men staying with the groom, while the women and families stay with the bride.  It'll just be up until Thursday night, then from Friday you guys will come back here and Peggy will come home with me."  There was an unmistakable note of pride in his voice as he said it.   

"If you say–" Jack started, but broke off into a shout of laughter at the sight of Peggy returning, carrying an SSR file and a pair of handcuffs.   

"Happy Thanksgiving!" she said, handing them to him.  "Johnnie Murphy, low-level black market smuggler, suspected to be in possession of some fairly run-of-the-mill Hydra technology, which is nevertheless more exciting than anything he usually handles," she recited.  "He's out of his league and nervous.  Hand off with a local fence is going down on Thursday night at ten – presumably because they hope law enforcement will all be on holiday – but we need to stay here for the family and last-minute preparations."  Jack knew perfectly well that they had an office full of other agents they could send.  "Arrest him, take custody of the technology and bring both back to the SSR night shift:  Agent O'Malley will be there to lock up Murphy and Dr Samberly to process the tech.  Did you bring your weapon?"  

"If I didn't, can I take Sousa's leg?" Jack muttered, earning him a dirty look.   

"I'll take that as a yes.  Any questions?"   

Jack looked at the file and handcuffs with a grin.  "I could kiss you, Carter."   

"The hell you will!" said Daniel sharply. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, guys, I'm going there: this is yet another wedding fic. Or, more accurately, mostly a pre-wedding fic - whether I'm ever brave enough to tackle the big day itself remains to be seen. I just wanted to chuck all these characters in a house together and see what happened! It's almost going to be a collection of one-shots with different characters meeting and interacting. Featuring ALL the pep-talks :D


	3. A Circus of Sousas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten points to Jack for every collective noun he manages to use for the Sousas.

While Jack headed to a guest bathroom to shower after his day of travel, Daniel took Peggy aside for a moment before he headed out with Jarvis.  “You ready for this?” he asked with a grin.  “The onslaught of Sousas?”   


“Kindly don’t put Jack’s words in my mouth,” she said.  “You know I love your family.”  


“I do,” said Daniel.  “But if you need to disappear at any point this week for a cup of tea, you know it’s okay.”   


Peggy gave him a guilty smile.  That was her trick whenever Howard had large parties around that she wanted to escape from, without having to leave the house entirely.  She would slip away to the kitchen for a cup of tea and half an hour’s peace, or some sensible conversation with the cook, if he was in.  “Are you comparing your perfectly splendid family with Howard’s cohorts of floozies?”   


He laughed.  “Of course not.  That’s my point, in fact.  I won’t be offended that you think they're bad company if you just need the odd break from the kids.”   


Peggy tried not to look as relieved as she felt.  “You are simply too thoughtful, Daniel Sousa,” she said, shaking her head in dismay.  “How am I ever going to put up with you for the rest of my life?  I’ll forget how to have any thoughts of my own.”   


“I doubt that,” smiled Daniel, drawing her in for a tender kiss.  “This is it, you know,” he whispered.  “We probably won’t get another moment to ourselves until I’m driving you away from here as my wife.”   


“Oh, you think you’re doing the driving, do you?” said Peggy sternly.   


“Allow me these rare moments of treating you like a lady, won’t you?  We only get one wedding!”  He knew she was only being cross because she hated to show how nervous she was feeling.  He didn’t mind in the slightest.  Winding her up put her much more at ease than showering her with affection.   


There was a polite cough behind him, and he turned to see Jarvis.  “Chief Sousa, I hate to interrupt...”   


“Yes, of course.  I’m coming,” he said.  They were each taking a car to the airport.  With a final squeeze of Peggy's hand, he headed off.   


***   


One hour later, Peggy was sitting by the window, watching for the return of the cars.  She had checked her lipstick about five times since Daniel had left, and couldn’t seem to stop herself straightening her necklace and smoothing the lines of her dress as she waited.  She was being ridiculous.  She knew perfectly well that the Sousas loved and accepted her, and she adored them in return, but she was always a barrel of nerves just before she saw them.   It would melt away the minute they were in the same room – they were the sort of people who put you instantly at ease – but the whole daughter-in-law-in-waiting situation made her feel a little panicked when she thought about it too much.  It was a lot of pressure.   


“You’re nervous!” said a gleeful voice from the doorway.    


“Don’t be daft!” she snapped.  She hated when Jack saw right through her.  That was supposed to be her trick.   


“Well, I think I’m allowed to enjoy your discomfort, after that little speech earlier about walking to the gallows.”  Jack smirked.  “Sounds like someone was actually expressing her own feelings.  Is that what you think of marrying into the family?  I’ll be sure to mention it to Sousa at dinner.”   


“Jack Thompson, you will do nothing of the sort!” cried Peggy.   


“Relax, Carter.  I plan on keeping my mouth shut for most of this week.”   


“You could do worse,” said Peggy, starting to feel slightly calmer as she scolded him.   


“I meant to ask you,” said Jack, “how much do they all know about what you two do?”   


“They know we work for a government agency,” replied Peggy, “and that everything we do is classified.  We’ve never let on quite how much field work we do, but they must realise we’re not completely desk-bound, because they know Daniel has to do a lot of walking on his prosthetic.”   


“Ha!  Walking.  On a good day!”   


“Quite,” agreed Peggy grimly.  “They know the agency takes down criminals – high-level threats to national security, you know – but we just let them assume that means sending in a team, or hunting for clues, that sort of thing.”   


“And I suppose they think you’re his secretary?” said Jack with a wicked grin.   


Peggy snorted.  “Certainly not!  I have no intention of keeping that charade up for my whole life.  No, Daniel told them I was running the office when he was unwell, so they know I’m doing the same level of work as him.”   


“And I’m a work colleague?”   


“Our old boss from New York, yes," she nodded.  "And they know you were staying here last year because you were badly injured.”   
  
“Shot?”   


“They’ve never asked.”   


Jack ran this all over in his head, checking that he had all the facts he needed to carry on a conversation with these people.  “That’s an awful lot to keep track of the rest of your life.”   


“It is,” sighed Peggy.  “It never used to bother me with my family.  I’ve always been miles away from them, ever since I was first recruited.  I’d send my mother a polite letter on the first Sunday of the month, and it was easy enough to leave out all the interesting parts.  Having a family that wants to hear about every detail of your life, it’s so much harder.  It eats away at Daniel, I know.  But that’s the price, isn’t it?”   
  
Jack could understand that.  His old man had always known exactly what job Jack was doing, he just never cared to ask about the actual day-to-day details.  He tried to imagine what it might have been like to have a brother or sister with whom he couldn’t share this huge aspect of his life.  It sure wouldn’t be easy.   


Just then Mr Jarvis pulled up with his carload, followed a minute later by Daniel.  Peggy hurried outside happily, having quite forgotten to be nervous, while Jack remained indoors and lurked awkwardly in the reception hall, not wanting to intrude.  Peggy was soon swamped with hugs and kisses and children throwing themselves at her.  Jack was just wondering if he should fetch Stark, given that he was technically the host, when Ana Jarvis appeared.   


“Jack!” she cried delightedly (they had long since dispensed with formalities).  He kissed her on the cheek and felt a bit safer not being in here on his own.  This colourful woman was someone he  _would_ almost go so far as to call a friend, after they had spent many hours recovering from their gunshot wounds together.  Her carefree manner and easy chatter had allowed her to thaw through his defences rather more easily than her husband had ever managed.  “I am so sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived!  I wanted to go to the shops one last time before everybody got here.  How are you?”  


They exchanged the necessary pleasantries.  When Jack enquired about Stark’s whereabouts, she pursed her lips and said that she had stopped by the lab and told him the guests were arriving.  “I am not even certain that he heard me.  You know how he gets when he’s locked away in there.  No doubt he will appear when he is ready.  I hope they don’t think him rude.”   


By now the stream of people was starting to trickle in.  Daniel made introductions with a broad grin, and Jack had his hand wrung and his back clapped a few times.  “Ana, Jack, this is my father, Frank Sousa – my sister, Ines, and her husband, Pete – and this here is Charlie, this is Katie, and this little mischief is Maddie.”   


“I’m nearly four!” announced Maddie importantly.   


“...Maddie, who is nearly four,” Daniel smiled, swapping his crutch to the other hand so she could hug his good leg.  “And this is my other sister, Tillie, her husband, Joe, and their little one is Helen."  Six-month-old Helen was bundled in Tillie's arms, sitting up against her shoulder and casting a wide-eyed gaze around at her new surroundings.  "Kids, this is Mrs Jarvis and Mr Thompson.”  Here Jack found his hand being solemnly shaken by Charlie, while Katie stared at Ana and said, “You’re not a bit like Mr Jarvis!”   


Ana laughed her musical laugh, leaned down towards her with a twinkle in her eye and said, “Don’t let looks deceive you, Miss Katie.  On the inside, we are more alike than you know.”  She planted a kiss on the girl’s head.  Katie considered all this for a moment, while Ana said to all three children, “Now, who would like to see where they are sleeping this week?”  The kids clambered after her noisily, Katie sidling right in next to Ana as they climbed the stairs, drinking in every word she said with rapt fascination.   


“Pai, you’ll be staying at my place, as you know,” said Daniel, “but there’s a bathroom down there if you want to freshen up.”  He pointed down the hall, and Frank found his suitcase being set in front of him by Mr Jarvis.  With a parting "Great to meet you, Jack," he took his suitcase and followed Daniel’s gesture towards the bathroom.  


“If the rest of you would follow me,” said Mr Jarvis, who had already taken most of the cases up, and had the last two in his hands now, “I will show you to your rooms.”  Daniel and Peggy followed the others, and Jack stared after them all as the bubble of chatter gradually faded away.  Silence fell in the entryway again, punctuated by whoops of delight as the children explored the upstairs rooms.   


Jack picked up a nearby local paper and took it to an armchair.  The swarm of Sousas had buzzed through.   


***   


A few minutes later, Howard Stark swept into the main living area of the mansion with his usual air of careless ease.  “Chief Two!” he exclaimed, spotting Jack and coming over to shake his hand.  Jack put down his paper with a scowl and took the offered hand.  Stark usually referred to Daniel as simply “the Chief”, so whenever Jack was in town they became “Chief One” and “Chief Two”.  Jack found this incredibly irritating, which was, of course, the desired effect.   


A distant baby squall sounded from the upper floors, and both men looked up at the ceiling apprehensively.  “So, they’re here,” said Howard glumly.   


“Dunno what you’re complaining about,” scowled Jack.  “I got conned into this whole circus – I’m here against my will!”  


“You think I’m not?” protested Stark.   


“It’s your house, isn’t it?  At least you had a choice!”  


Stark laughed.  “Have you ever tried saying no to Peg?”  


Jack gave a sullen “humph!” and would have continued in this vein, had not a woman’s voice made him jump.  “Are you two going to be like this all week?”  


“Ana!” said Jack.  “You’re as stealthy as a cat, you know!  I thought you were upstairs.”  


“We’ve left the families to get settled in,” she explained.  Sure enough, he could hear Daniel and Peggy returning down the stairs.  The sound of a door from down the hall announced that Mr Sousa was re-joining them, too.  The little bubble of peace was well and truly gone.   


“Oh, Howard, you’re here,” said Peggy.  “Good.  This is Daniel’s father, Frank Sousa.”  


“Pleased to meet you, Mr Sousa,” said Howard, oozing charm with every syllable.  “It’s an honour to have the Chief’s family to stay here.  I hope you’re all comfortable.”  Jack had to be impressed at the way he could just switch it on when he needed to.   


Frank laughed.  “‘Comfortable’ would be an understatement, Mr Stark,” he said, looking around.  Jack could tell he was a little over-awed, but he was holding it together much better than a lot of people managed when they met the man.   


“Call me Howard.”  


“Howard.  I’m pleased to meet you at last.  I’ve heard a lot about you from my son.  Thank you for all you’ve done for him and Peggy.”  


Jack snorted as Howard waved this away modestly. 

Katie and Maddie came hurtling down the stairs with a great deal of squealing and squabbling.  “Girls!” came Ines’ voice from above stairs.  “No running in the house, please.  And indoor voices.”

The girls slowed their pace obediently for the last few yards between them and Frank.  “Vovô!” cried Katie excitedly.  “Did you see that there’s a pool outside?  Mommy says we can only go swimming in there with an adult.  Will you take us, Vovô?  Please?” 

Frank laughed.  “Right now?  Aren’t you tired from the plane ride?”  The girls shook their heads resolutely.  “Well, I’m afraid I am,” said Frank.

“We are having dinner shortly, in any case, darlings,” said Ana.  “We thought you'd like it a bit early,” she added to Frank, “with the time difference.”

“Anyway, girls,” said Daniel, as the rest of the family continued to make their way in, “if it’s a nice day tomorrow, we can have a big family trip to the beach!  How’d you like that?”

The children went into raptures at this suggestion.  “The beach, at Thanksgiving!” said Ines, shaking her head in wonder.

“That would be so nice, Daniel,” said Tillie.  “I can’t wait to dip my toes into the Pacific Ocean!”

“I thought you came here for a visit last year.” said Ana to her, as the others started little pockets of conversation around them.  “Did you not see the beach then?”  


“Yes, I was here for a week in the fall,” said Tillie, “but I was horribly sick for most of it.  I hardly made it out of the house.  I’ve got some lost time to make up for!”

Ana gave her a sympathetic look.  “Oh, what a pity!  There was a particularly nasty bout of the ’flu going around last year.”

The baby started fussing, squirming around in her mother’s arms to try and get a better look at Ana.  “May I have a hold?” she asked.  Tillie handed her over, gratefully stretching her back and arms out.  Little Helen batted her chubby hands at Ana’s vivid hair.  “Uh-uh-uh!” said Ana, gently untangling her little fingers.  “Don’t pull,  _baba_.  One day, you, too, will appreciate how long it takes to arrange your coiffure perfectly.  We can’t all let our curls hang loose like yours,  _kiscicám_!”  She gently twirled the wispy strands forming into ringlets around Helen’s crown.

“What was that word?” asked Tillie curiously.

“Oh!” said Ana, “I’m sorry.  It’s Hungarian.  Something my mother used to call my sisters and me.”  


“Don’t apologise,” said Tillie.  “She gets a mixture of Polish, Portuguese and English names flung at her all the time, anyway.  I’m only curious to know what it meant.”  


“It’s like a baby cat, a kitten.  ‘My little kitten’.   _Kiscicám_.”  


“Keesh-tsi-tsam,” echoed Tillie slowly.  She gave Helen a little scratch behind the ears, as if she were a kitten.  “It’s a big mouthful for such a little girl, but I like it!  Our mother was called Kitty, you know.”

Ana buried her face in close.  “Do you like it, too, little kitten?”  As she shared a precious giggle with the baby, she felt Edwin appearing in the doorway and looked up, feeling suddenly a little flustered.  Through the impenetrable mask of his butler facade, she caught a hint of sorrow and love on his face that only she could perceive.He cleared his throat and announced:  “Dinner is served.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait - technical difficulties, I'm afraid. Thanks, as ever, to Paeonia for her support and vast historical knowledge!


	4. Tea and Sisters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy gets a bit domestic, but only because there's punching involved.

_Wednesday morning_

Ines pulled out a sack of flour with a sinking heart.  It had seemed like just a bit of fun, this idea of bringing their usual Thanksgiving dinner to Daniel for his wedding.  But she hadn’t really thought through what it would mean to be staying in Howard Stark’s mansion.  The kitchen was industrial scale and reminded her of the one in the diner where she had worked in her teens.  It was way in the back of the house, decidedly in ‘staff’ territory.  No family passing through and stopping for a taste or a chat or a stir of the pot.  Her children were off exploring the house and grounds with Pete, Tillie had had to disappear to her room to change Helen, and even Pai, who was not above pitching in with the cooking when needed, had managed to get distracted talking to Mr Stark about Daniel’s new leg, drawn in by both fascination and gratitude.     


They had made a start with some of the food yesterday evening, after the kitchen staff had finished up for the night, and they were hoping to get as much as possible done today between meals, so as not to get under the staff’s feet.  Hopefully they would then be able to enjoy Thursday without being stuck in the kitchen for too much of the day.  But if they had any chance of making it to the beach today, there was an awful lot to get done this morning, and Ines had to admit she was feeling the effects of the travel and time difference more than she’d expected.  


The door opened and she looked up gratefully, expecting Tillie, but it was Peggy who walked in.   


“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Peggy.  “I don’t mean to disturb you.  I was only going to make a cup of tea.”  


“Isn’t that what the butler’s for?” asked Ines.   


“Mr Jarvis was last seen being commandeered by Maddie for pony rides,” said Peggy with a smile.  “He does get rather cross when I help myself, but I remind him that he’s not my butler, he’s Howard’s.”  


Ines still felt a little intimidated by this glamorous woman, with her clipped British accent and sharp outfits.  She’d only met Peggy a few times, and though she liked her very much and they’d shared a few laughs, they didn’t exactly have a lot in common.  She wouldn’t in her wildest dreams have imagined their Daniel marrying someone who lived in a place like this and was on first-name terms with Howard Stark.  Perhaps it was just the famous English reserve, but Ines still had a niggling feeling that she didn’t really know the real Peggy.  She wanted her new sister to feel like part of the family.  It was plain to see that Daniel was crazy about her, and she’d never seen him so happy, which was all that mattered:  she wasn’t at all concerned about the wedding.  But still...she wished she had a better understanding of the two of them as a couple.  


“May I make you some coffee while I’m here?” asked Peggy.  She knew Ines liked the same strong Portuguese coffee that Daniel drank, and she kept some on hand for when he was around.   


“No, thanks,” said Ines, “but if you’re boiling the kettle I’ll steep some lemon and ginger for me.”  She dug through the crate of fruit and vegetables that Mr Jarvis had bought for them and found a lemon.   


Peggy groaned.  “None of you are going to let me live that catastrophe down, are you?  I assure you, Daniel’s shown me how to make coffee properly since!”  


“No, no, it’s not that,” said Ines quickly.  “It’s just...well, we were going to tell you all today anyway, but I’m expecting again.”     


“Oh,” said Peggy, looking unsure what to do with that information.  “Congratulations.  But what does that have to do with coffee?”  


“I can’t bear the smell of coffee when I’m pregnant,” explained Ines.  Peggy still looked confused, and it suddenly occurred to Ines that with no sisters and (if she remembered correctly) only two cousins, who were both still in school, Peggy might not know very much about this sort of thing.  How strange.  She herself had been around children and pregnant women her whole life, and knew all about aches, pains, nausea and frequent trips to the bathroom well before she started her own family.    


“Often your tastes change,” she said.  “You suddenly hate certain things and crave others, and you’re especially sensitive to smells.  With Charlie, I couldn’t stop eating raw cabbage, of all things.  With Maddie, it was bacon!  But of course, I couldn’t waste our entire meat ration on it.  Some days, I thought I was going to go mad if I didn’t get some!”  The look on Peggy’s face confirmed that she hadn’t known of this phenomenon.  Ines longed to ask her whether she was looking forward to starting a family, but decided she’d better wait and see if Peggy brought it up.   


“It must have been hard, having Maddie during the war, with Pete away,” said Peggy.    


“It was challenging,” agreed Ines, “and Daniel being away, too.  But things were hard for everyone, weren’t they?”  


“Were you anxious?” asked Peggy.  “About how you would cope?”  


“Oh, I’ve felt that way at some point about all my babies,” smiled Ines.  “Even this one.  You always find the strength somehow.  You prepare as best you can, and then you take whatever comes.  You know you’re going to cope – you just find out how when you get there.  And you know that family is always there for you.”  


Peggy sipped her tea quietly.  “Did Daniel help you a lot when Charlie and Katie were babies?”  


“Especially Katie,” Ines nodded.  “She was one of those babies that needed to be held upright constantly, and I had my hands full with Charlie tearing about the house.  Daniel would come round whenever he could and just hold her for me, to give me a break.”  It took all her willpower now not to drop a line about what a great father Daniel would be, but she held her tongue.  The girl wasn’t blind:  anyone could see that he adored his nieces and nephew.  And if she was nervous about the prospect, heaping the family’s expectations upon her wouldn’t help.   She kept her attention on bringing her bread dough together.  It could rise nicely while they were at the beach.  


Peggy stood up.  “Daniel’s going to be a wonderful father, I know.”  Oh.  How about that?  “Just...don’t be surprised if our family life doesn’t look quite like yours.  I love my job and I’ve worked hard at it.  I don’t intend to give it up if I can help it.  Now,” she said briskly, surveying the scene, “I can’t leave you here on your own with all this, or you’ll never get out of the house.  You of all people know that I am worse than useless in the kitchen.  But if you  _promise_ not to breathe a word to the others that you witnessed it, I’m sure I can manage to follow instructions until Tillie gets back.”  


Ines smiled.  “Here, you’d better take this.”  She handed her the apron Tillie had left behind.  “That dress looks expensive.  You could take over from me here, and I’ll get onto some pie fillings.  Do you know how to knead bread?”  


“Haven’t the foggiest.”  


Ines showed her how to stretch the dough with the heel of her hand, trying not to slip into the motherly voice she used when she had Katie helping her.  “That’s right, you can really give it a pounding.  And don’t be afraid to smack it about on the table as you rotate it.”  


“I could never be afraid of such a thing.”  


“We always joke that if you’re mad at someone, make sweet rolls.  You can work your frustrations out in the dough, and at the end you have something sweet to cheer yourself up with.”  She watched Peggy punching the dough vigorously.  “I’d hate to know how many people you’re mad at, though!”  


“Any one of a delightful array of unsavoury characters I’ve met during my career,” said Peggy without hesitation, scenes flashing through her mind, as though from a moving picture.    _Colleen had nothing to do with this!  Why would you kill her?  –_ punch _–  What have you done with Chief Sousa, Vernon?  –_  punch  – _Last chance, Miss Frost...You shot an unarmed, innocent woman!_   –  punch.  She couldn’t say any of those out loud, however, so she settled on some slightly less diabolical figures to abuse with unflattering imitations.  “‘Carter!  Transport reports!  Get wigglin’!’  ‘Don’t get cute with me, lady.’  'What's with the accent, Queen Victoria?'  ‘We’ll handle the rough stuff, darlin’.’  ‘Not bad...for a girl.’”  She smacked them each in their doughy faces, and then, unable to help herself, gave the sticky mass one very satisfying jab and told it:  “Dottie Underwood, you are under arrest!”  


Ines let out a surprised burst of laughter.  “Well, I never heard anything like that come out of our kitchen!  Though I don’t think ‘Dottie’ sounds like a very dangerous criminal name.”  


“Neither did I,” muttered Peggy darkly.     


“It does all sound pretty tedious, though,” said Ines.  “Do they talk to you like that all day long?”  She’d had demeaning comments flung at her at the diner, of course, but at the end of the day it was just a place to earn money for the family a few hours a week.  Peggy’s work was her whole day, every day.  Ines couldn’t imagine why she would put herself through it.   


“They used to,” said Peggy.  “But it’s not so bad, anymore.  I’ve had some chances to prove myself.  And of course, not everyone is like that.”  She smiled at Ines.  “You can’t imagine your brother ever speaking so rudely, can you?”  


“I hope not!” said Ines in a motherly tone.   


Peggy laughed.  “He used to try and stand up for me.  It was terribly sweet, but eventually I asked him to stop, and he understood.  I needed to earn their respect myself, not have him leap to my defence.  But oh, he hated it!  I could see his back stiffen whenever the boys were carrying on, or his eyes would shoot daggers at whatever piece of paper was in front of him.  I think it nearly killed him not to say anything.  It meant the world to me that he respected me enough to do as I’d asked.”  


Ines stored this lovely little insight into her brother’s character away in her mind.  Pai would like that.   She stirred her pie filling thoughtfully.   “You know, I’ve always wondered how you got into your line of work,” she said with a sidelong glance.   


“There were a few contributing factors, really,” said Peggy, after a moment’s thought.  “I never really knew exactly what I wanted from life, except that I didn’t like to be told what I  _ought_ to want.  Then the war came, of course, and I knew I had to do  _something_.  I got some desk work – I learnt a lot, and I was making a difference, so I tried very, very hard to be content with that, but I was always itching to be more involved.  You know my brother died in the war?”  Ines nodded.  “One of the last things he said to me was about finding a life of adventure.  So when he died, I decided that from that moment any opportunity I had to do more, I would take without question.  Any skills I could learn, any training I could receive, any situation I could help in, I would throw myself into it with everything I had.  I got recruited, and I did just that.  I was almost as surprised as anyone that I actually turned out to be good at it!”  


Ines just blinked at her.  She sounded so much like Daniel when she spoke like that.  He, too, threw his heart and soul into his work without question, not for recognition or the wage, but because it was simply in his nature to give everything he could.  There it was:  the missing link that she’d never quite been able to see.  That was what made them tick.  “Weren’t you afraid?” she asked.   


“Of course, sometimes,” admitted Peggy.  “But it’s like you said, isn’t it?  You just have to find the strength from somewhere.  You prepare all you can, and then you take each new challenge as it comes.  You decide in advance that you can cope.”  


Before Ines had a chance to let that sink in, Tillie waltzed back into the kitchen, holding the baby against her shoulder, and Peggy whipped off the apron quickly as though it had burnt her.  “Well, she’s asleep,” announced Tillie in an exultant whisper. “Oh, hi, Peggy.  Poor little thing’s having a rough time of it.  Why did God see fit to make teeth burst through their gums like that?  I’ll be having words with him later.”  Peggy watched in astonishment as she threw a clean, folded diaper down in an empty food crate and laid the baby right in there.  She gurgled a little, but didn’t wake.  “What are you doing?” Tillie asked, as Peggy tried to hand the apron to her and step past.  


“Oh, well, I’m sure you two would much rather not have me...” began Peggy.   


“Nonsense, the more the merrier!” said Tillie, prodding Peggy’s stodgy dough with amusement.   


“Tillie, it is for her wedding,” smiled Ines.  “She doesn’t have to work if she doesn’t want to.”  


“I cooked for my wedding, didn’t I?” said Tillie, unfazed.  “So did you, might I add.”  She grinned at Peggy.  “Mamãe would roll in her grave if we let you marry her son without knowing how to make _pastéis_ _de nata_.  And if you want the privilege of taste-testing,” she said as Peggy absent-mindedly dipped her finger in the pie filling, “you’ve got to work for it.  We’ll make a Sousa of you yet!”  


Peggy looked at their kind, tired faces and knew she was defeated.  “I wouldn’t get my hopes up, if I were you.  I really can’t impress upon you enough how dreadfully, shockingly bad I am at all this,” she said.  “But I  _might_ be willing to exchange my labour, such as it is, for the price of stories about Daniel as a little boy...”  


Ines and Tillie exchanged mischievous grins.  “Oh, Peggy,” smiled Tillie.  “You better get comfortable in this.”  She threw the apron back to her.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of reiterations of things from the show here. Obviously I own nothing!


	5. A Fish Out of Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peggy has the thankless job of keeping her boys in line.
> 
> (No one is counting favours anymore, but if they were, let’s just be clear on who would win.)

“Do you think we should try and pry Ines and Tillie away from the kitchen?” Daniel asked his father lazily. They were sitting on deck chairs, watching the children play, and right at this moment Ana’s dog had its massive head laid heavily on Daniel’s lap. He didn’t really feel like getting up, but he was starting to feel guilty that they’d been back there working for so long. “It’s nearly eleven, and we did say we’d have an early lunch. How long will it take to get everyone organised for the beach?”

“I’m sure they have their eye on the time,” said Frank. “But maybe we should pop our heads in and see if they need any help. I know Ines has the kids’ swimming things packed and ready.”

“And your refreshments are likewise packed and ready for the afternoon,” offered Mr Jarvis, with all the dignity of a man who hadn’t just been on all fours with a small child on his back. “The beach chairs and umbrellas are already in the boot of one of the cars. Chief Sousa, are you certain you don’t require a driver?”

“Thanks, Jarvis, but I think Pete and Joe are looking forward to driving Stark’s cars through L.A.,” said Daniel with a grin. That was an understatement: the two of them had been talking about it almost nonstop since their ride in from the airport yesterday. “Let’s go see how the girls are getting on, anyway, Pai,” he said, standing up with a small grunt. “I’ll show you where the kitchen is. And I have no idea where Peggy’s gotten to.”

They made their way from the shady garden area where the family had been spending the morning, along an arched colonnade, around the pool and into the house, where they found Jack and Howard loitering around the liquor cabinet, despite the early hour. “Hope you’re not picking up any bad habits from him, Jack,” muttered Daniel, shaking his head at the pair of them. “Have you seen where Peggy went?”

Before Jack could answer, they heard the sound of chattering ladies echoing in the hall. A moment later, Ines, Peggy and Tillie rounded the corner, looking so relaxed and happy together that Daniel’s heart swelled with joy. But he’d hardly had a second to take in this lovely sight, when the trio saw him, stopped talking instantly, looked at each other, and burst out laughing.

“What the...?” he began.

“Don’t ask,” said Tillie with a wink, as she rubbed Helen’s back over her shoulder.

Peggy mumbled something for only the women to hear, and Ines, with a sly look towards her brother, replied, “No, you wouldn’t think it now, would you?” More laughter ensued.

Daniel could only gape at them.

“I dunno Sousa,” called Jack from the back of the room, “the sisters and the fiancée conspiring together? Ominous. I’d be worried if I were you! Very worried.”

“Thanks for your expert opinion,” said Daniel coolly. “Wait...Peggy, is that flour on your face?”

“Certainly not,” said Peggy, hastily brushing her face clean and rearranging her curls, as the sisters stifled laughs. “You’re imagining things, dear. Peggy Carter does not cook, as you very well know.” She brushed past him with a cheeky grin, leaving him to the mercies of his family, and poured herself a plain seltzer water from the drinks cart.

Jack sauntered over to her. “So, you abandon us poor souls out here, while you’re off playing happy family for half the morning?” He wore his usual smirk, but Peggy sensed he really was relieved she was back.

“Well, why should I not?” she replied. “I don’t believe I need your permission.”

Jack looked as though he’d like to retort, but their attention was momentarily drawn away by a raucous peal of laughter from the Sousas on the other side of the room. Whatever childhood memory was being dragged up now was clearly very contentious, with accusations flying good-naturedly from sibling to sibling, and Frank listening on in astonishment at what had apparently gone on without his knowledge. Daniel and Ines now had their arms around each other’s shoulders, whispering conspiratorially to provoke the greatest possible indignation from Tillie.

“Everything about him makes more sense now, doesn’t it?” said Peggy quietly, watching Jack out of the corner of her eye. It was true that Daniel looked years younger, and they could almost catch a glimpse of the man he must have been before the war, light-hearted and carefree. He had always had such a quiet dignity about him, but it wasn’t until she had met his family and seen him fully at ease that Peggy had fully comprehended what it was rooted in.

Jack quickly furrowed away any trace of wistfulness from his face and acknowledged her comment with a grunt. “One big happy family out here, too,” he said indifferently. “Don’t it just warm your heart?”

“Better than being back home pulling the graveyard shift, though, wouldn’t you say?”

“Well, it’s not always dull, you know.” He grinned at her. “Remember the night with the cow?”

“How could I forget?” she replied darkly. “I little imagined, when I dressed for that shift, just what my shoes were going to be trudging through by the end of the day.”

“That car was never the same after that, either. There’s been a mysterious rattle ever since that no one can trace, even after we had the bumper fixed.”

“I just don’t understand the criminals in this country,” said Peggy, shaking her head. “It’s one thing to break into some poor farmer’s barn to hatch your nefarious plans. But to forget to close the gate? Frankly, it’s rude. Not to mention sloppy.”

“Oh, I’m sorry if we don’t produce bad guys of a high enough calibre for your tastes,” said Jack. They caught each other’s eye and each smiled into their drinks.

Peggy suddenly looked stern. “Jack, tell me you haven’t been hiding out here with Howard all morning.” Howard had plonked himself down on a couch and was still nursing a Bloody Mary. “You know, eventually you’ll have to join in the fun.”

Jack groaned. “Gimme a break.”

“Well, I refuse to let you sit in the corner and sulk all week long.”

“Not really my scene, Carter,” he said shortly.

That much was painfully obvious, Peggy thought. Jack could charm his way around a roomful of politicians, donors, contacts or colleagues, but when faced with a lovely family, he didn’t have a clue. She tried to imagine what his own family Thanksgivings would be like, and the only image that sprang to mind was of reporting to a stern-faced Army General with a tendency to hone in on all the weaknesses in your troop deployment. She had met the Thompson family patriarch on an undercover op last year, along with a handful of aunts and uncles. Everything about Jack had made more sense then, too.

“You could try talking to people,” she said, patiently.

He snorted. “These people don’t want to talk to me. I’m just the jerk who used to make life miserable for their brother.”

She eyed him severely. “You don’t for a moment believe that’s how he describes you?”

Jack scoffed disbelievingly, but then stopped when he saw from her face that she was being sincere. He gulped, looking for just a fraction of a second like a repentant schoolboy.

Peggy shook her head. Why did he think they’d invited him here? “What am I going to do with you?” she wondered aloud, as they watched Katie come tearing inside to show her mother and Tia Tillie a collection of flowers that Ana had helped her pick. Daniel and Frank evidently decided to leave the flower arrangements to them, and started heading back outdoors. “Go outside and play nice,” said Peggy, in a voice that did not invite opposition. “Lunch isn’t far away, anyway, so you needn’t suffer long. _Go!_ ” Jack scowled at her but, perhaps sensing that he would have no peace if he tried to stay, grudgingly followed after the father and son.

Peggy smiled after him affectionately. He really was daft, that fellow. Bless him. It had definitely been far too long since she’d seen him. That New York office was full of men who resentfully respected him and obeyed him without question. How frightfully lonely.

Looking around the room, she joined Howard on the couch, rather than the women still standing near the door to the hall. As soon as she sat down, Katie came bounding up with a handful of her flowers, delighted when Peggy immediately tucked one behind her ear, then fished out a hairpin to affix another to her dress. “Miss Carter, can you ask me some math?” she asked eagerly.

Peggy laughed. “This one has a wonderful head for arithmetic,” she said glowingly to Howard. “All right, dear: what’s seventeen times five?”

Katie looked up at the ceiling for a moment. “Eighty-five!” she pronounced.

“Quite right!” said Peggy. She loved seeing Katie’s brain tick over. The girl had a real talent for breaking a number down into manageable pieces. Peggy had been similar as a child, and remembered driving her mother half mad when she wouldn’t just learn her multiplication tables by rote, instead chattering on about how she moved the numbers around in her mind. It hadn’t been until she began working with cyphers at Bletchley that she’d realised what a gift it was.

“Now a harder one!” insisted Katie.

“Very well, what about...twenty-seven times twelve?”

Katie muttered under her breath for a minute, before declaring, “Three hundred and twenty-four!”

Peggy beamed. “Brilliant!” Katie, not being one to sit still for long, ran back across the room to her mother and aunt, to explain exactly how she’d done it.

“A baby could do that,” muttered Howard.

“It couldn’t, actually, and nor could most children Katie’s age. If you opened your eyes, you’d see she might make an excellent Stark Industries lab technician, or even scientist, one day.”

“Get back to me when she can do higher order differential equations,” he said with a yawn. “Then you’ll have my attention.”

“Your paternal instincts are touching, Howard.”

“Well, what do you expect? It’s not enough that, for months, you used my house as a convalescent home for every stray Chief in the country, now you’re bringing a wagon-load of kids here? You know, I didn’t buy this place for wholesome family fun!”

“I’m very well aware of that, thank you,” said Peggy wearily. “Although I would argue that there’s been a colossal child living here all this time.”

“What do you mean? I’m delightful! Maturity is just another word for being boring.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “You know, some of us realised after the age of twenty that we’re not Peter bloody Pan! And I think you’ve had quite enough of that,” she said, whisking his near-empty glass away before he could stop her. “You always turn morose when you drink in the morning.”

He slouched down further in the couch. “She steals my drinks, she doesn’t even let me bring any of my own guests to my own home all week,” he grumbled. “You know, there are three or four lovely young actresses I know of who are all alone here in L.A., and just desperate for someone to take pity on them and bring them home for Thanksgiving.”

“Howard, need I remind you that your poor taste in company is why we’re in this situation in the first place? Just remind me, how did Dottie Underwood come into our lives, again?”

He scowled. “That’s low, Peg.”

“And who was it was wanted for treason a couple of years ago?”

An ungrateful pause. “Me.”

“And what would they have done to you if they’d caught you?”

“Hanged me.”

“And who put her career on the line to clear your name, and stopped you destroying half of New York?”

“You.”

“Yes, well I think you can find it within your heart to give me this one Thanksgiving the way I want it,” she concluded briskly.

“Well as long as we’re playing that game,” said Howard, “who was it who sacrificed his only working hover car — which I have still never come close to recreating, by the way — just to save your precious Chief from certain death, without whom there wouldn’t even be any _Thanksgiving_?”

“Oh my word, a _car_?” gasped Peggy in mock horror. “That really puts everything into perspective!”

“Sarcasm is unbecoming in a lady...”

She gave him a withering look. “Honestly, Howard, this is the last thing I shall ever require from you as your house guest. I’ll be out of your hair for good in a couple of days.”

They both fell silent, looking away from each other a little sadly. It was never meant to be a permanent living arrangement, and they drove each other up the wall half the time, but they were going to miss it.

“So, what do you think Cap would make of all this?” said Howard suddenly. “You and the Chief. Do you think he would have liked him?”

This was so out of the blue that Peggy looked up at him in astonishment. “Of course he would!” she said. “Don’t you think so?”

“I guess,” he said thoughtfully. “I mean, they probably would have gotten along, if they’d ever met. But then, I can’t imagine him liking anyone who was marrying you. What if he were alive now — would he shake Sousa’s hand and give him his blessing, or punch him in the face?” Peggy laughed. “And what if you’d met the Chief before the war?” he persisted. “Would Cap still have been...well, I just can’t imagine him without you, that’s all.”

Peggy eyed him with compassion. “Howard, he would have been exactly the same brave, extraordinary man,” she said gently. “As he was before he ever met me. And I would still have fought alongside him proudly, even if I hadn’t loved him. But I did love him, and this isn’t going to change anything about who Steve was, and what he meant to us all.” It was strange to put these thoughts into words. They hardly ever talked about him, even though she always thought of Howard as her last link to Steve. “Truly, I just try not to think about what _might_ have happened,” she continued. “As far as I’m concerned, they each came into my life at different times, and they both changed it in completely different ways. I can’t pit them against each other in my head, I’d go mad.”

She wanted to tell him about Steve saving Daniel in the war, but they’d decided not to tell anyone if they could help it. It somehow seemed a private thing between the two of them — or the three of them — and they didn’t want it bandied about all over the office gossip chain. But it had certainly helped her come to peace with the questions Howard was asking now.

Instead, she added cheerfully, “You know the boys all liked him, of course,” by which she meant the Howling Commandos. She and Daniel had connected with them in the south of France, after their stop in England back in September, where they had helped them track down another lead on Michael. (The whole thing had turned out to be yet another wild goose chase, involving a crooked policeman, an abandoned train station and an exploding picnic basket.) “They couldn’t say enough about him as we were leaving. Dugan even gave him Steve’s flask, which he’d been hanging onto since ’45.”

“Nice. That’s nice,” said Howard, nodding thoughtfully. “Don’t get me wrong, I like your Chief, Peg. I would have sent him packing months ago if I didn’t approve.”

Peggy laughed. “I would dearly love to see you try! That crutch has pinned bigger men than you to the ground.”

“All the same,” said Howard, hurriedly moving on from that image, “I feel it’s my duty, on the eve of the eve of your wedding, as your mentor and trusted adviser...”

“You _can’t_ be serious.”

“...to give you some much needed advice about what a husband needs.”

“Stop talking, I’m begging you!”

“Now, Peggy,” Howard said over her, raising his chin grandly and puffing out his chest, “you must understand, a man wants to be idolised, adored. It’s very important that you don’t question or challenge him in any way. It’s a bad habit you’ve got, and I gotta tell you, it makes you very difficult to live with.”

“Oh, does it, indeed?”

“And you should definitely learn how to mix his favourite drink. That’s a talent I always admire in a woman. There are times when a man wants a nightcap without his butler interrupting a nice evening’s...entertainment.”

“I hate to state the obvious, but we won’t have a butler.”

“All the more reason for you to learn these things,” he continued smoothly. “And you should always warm his slippers by the fire. Wait, does he even have slippers, plural?”

“I’m sure he does, you idiot.”

“Hmm. It does seem silly to warm them both up. But do you warm one, and then go back to the bedroom to get the other? That’s not very efficient.” He frowned, lost in thought for a moment.

“Are you quite finished?”

“For now,” he said, in the same grand tone of voice. “Stick with me, Peg, and we’ll make a perfect little wife out of you yet.” He gave a smug little nod that earned him another withering look.

“Your vast matrimonial experience, of course, lends undeniable credibility to your advice,” said Peggy, arching her brow. “Why on earth do I put up with you boys?”

Just then, they heard a commotion approaching from outside. A minute later Pete, closely followed by everyone else who had been out there, rushed through the doorway, carrying a very wet and howling Maddie. “Someone wants her Mommy!” he said apologetically.

“What happened?” gasped Ines, rushing up from the floor where she had been playing with Katie and Helen.

“She fell in the pool,” explained Pete. “Slipped right past me. I was still running to catch up with her when she fell, but Mr Thompson jumped right in and fished her out almost before she hit the water. Incredibly fast reaction! He could give my old Navy boys a run for their money!”

“I told you not to go near the pool, Maddie,” Ines scolded, taking her from Pete’s arms and starting to head towards the bedroom. “What were you doing there?”

“She was being chased by a flamingo.”

Ines gave her husband a startled look, as though she couldn’t possibly have heard him right, and the family swarmed around them, fussing and talking over each other. Maddie was desperate to know whether they would still be going to the beach, given that she had had a swim already, and Charlie was telling anyone who would listen that he had caught the flamingo, briefly, while everyone was busy getting Maddie out of the pool, but it had flapped so hard he’d nearly fallen in, too, and wouldn’t it have been funny if Mr Thompson had had to haul them both out of the water?

Through the chaos, Peggy saw Jack appear slowly in the doorway, unnoticed, his once crisp suit completely sodden. In fact, he looked exactly like a grey and rather sulky raincloud. She sidled up to him, taking a napkin from a side table as she squeezed her way around the crush of Jarvises, Escobars, Pryzbylaks and Sousas. “I think you’re making a good impression,” she whispered, the corner of her mouth twitching.

Wordlessly, Jack snatched the napkin from her and dried his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just carrying on as if Endgame never happened. 'Nuff said.
> 
> Thanks again to Paeonia for giving me lots of help as I did battle with this chapter!


	6. Tea and Butlers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Jack's sullenness has been bringing out the radiantly blushing bride in Peggy, Mr Jarvis has a rather different effect. Because sometimes it's fun to be contrary.

Peggy stepped out of her car and started heading for the mansion, feeling happy but drained after the trip to the beach.  She’d had some lovely debates with Frank and Joe on the way there, about everything from Truman to Gandhi, from the upcoming Communist trial to the troubles in the Middle East.  When they got to the beach, she had been happy to splash about with the children for a while, and then kick a ball around on the sand. After the swim, Daniel had rejoined Tillie under the umbrella and helped her entertain baby Helen, so Peggy had launched herself into the family antics alone.  Eventually, football devolved into a seemingly endless game of Tag. They’d all had some laughs, but the children’s capacity to be entertained by such a one-dimensional game far outlasted her own.

After a long drive home with worn out and grumpy children, Peggy’s nerves were starting to feel decidedly frazzled.  The friendly morning she’d spent with Tillie and Ines in the kitchen felt like aeons ago. She watched Daniel limping from the car and could tell he was desperately tired.  He still had that contented, relaxed air about him, though, even with little ones clamouring around and getting in his path. Peggy couldn’t understand how he didn't seem to be dying for a moment’s peace, as she was.  He was incredible. 

As for the children themselves, she would have thought they'd become quieter and more docile the more tired they got, but if anything the reverse was true.  They seemed to have an inexhaustible supply of energy, and as the day wore on it was being put to use mostly for bickering with each other.

“Mommy, Charlie shook sand onto me!”

“I didn’t!  I just picked up my towel!”

“You got it in my _hair!”_

“You’ve been in sand all day.  What’s a bit more?”

“Don’t provoke your sister, Charlie,” said Ines, with the patience of a saint.  “Come over here. We should brush you all down again before we head inside.”

Peggy armed herself with one of the empty baskets, so she could feel useful without having to get involved in the inevitable skirmish that followed.  You would think that all those years of breaking up pointless fights among tired, hungry, battle-worn soldiers would have prepared her for this sort of thing.  She remembered Dugan and Morita once almost coming to blows, not a mile away from a Hydra base in occupied Luxemburg, over whether one of them had deliberately propelled a snowy branch into the other's face.  She smiled, recalling how she’d sorted the two of them out. _Definitely_ not suitable for children.

Mr Jarvis met them all at the door, and soon had everything under his direction, from lining up sandy shoes to stacking the deck chairs, even gathering all the wet towels and bathing suits from them for laundering.  “Mrs Escobar,” he said, “I’m afraid that your bread dough has taken to rising with wanton enthusiasm. I took the liberty of knocking it back, about an hour ago, before it could take on a life of its own all over the kitchen bench.”

“I’ll go,” said Tillie, handing Helen over for cuddles with Vovô.  Ines thanked them both, being rather preoccupied trying to unknot a tangled ribbon from Katie’s hair, while Maddie fussed in Pete’s arms for her mother’s attention.

Mr Jarvis then showed everyone through to the sun room, where he had set up a colourful array of lemonade, iced tea and punch in glass pitchers, accompanied by plates of little sandwiches and cakes to tide everybody over until dinner time.  A silver coffee set completed the arrangement. The adults breathed a sigh of relief and starting sinking into chairs, as the children set to demolishing the snacks. (An army, Peggy reflected, marches on its stomach.) 

They were soon joined by Jack and Ana, who had been playing cribbage in the adjoining sitting room.  As soon as Jack sat down, Maddie climbed up next to him, showering crumbs all over the wicker settee, and looked up at him with a sort of adoring terror.  He gave her a quizzical look that _might_ have been a weak attempt at a friendly smile, then tried to sip his coffee as though he hadn’t noticed her.

“I’m afraid there wasn’t room for the tea,” Jarvis was saying apologetically.  “I have set it up outside.” He gestured through the door with his hand, bowing his head to Peggy.

Bless that man, she thought.  She gratefully headed outside to their usual spot at the glass table, where a cheerful little teapot and a selection of biscuits were waiting for her on a silver tray. 

For the nearly eighteen months that she had been living here, Peggy had had afternoon tea with Mr Jarvis any time she had been home at four o’clock.  Mostly, that was only at weekends, although there had been times — during the Isodyne case, for example, and in the wake of Jack’s shooting — that more of her days had revolved around the mansion.  How she was going to survive without the butler’s wonderful arsenal of scones and classic British biscuits, she couldn’t imagine.

“Do you have everything you require, Miss Carter?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you, Mr Jarvis,” she replied.  “Aren’t you joining me?”

“Oh, I shouldn’t like to abandon...”

“I’m sure everybody is perfectly capable of feeding themselves,” she said firmly.  “Anyway, how many times must I tell you: you’re not on duty this week. That’s why Howard got in the extra staff.” 

That argument had been raging for weeks.  She had always known that he wouldn’t be capable of completely switching off when there were guests to serve, but it was amusing to watch him struggle with the concept.  The extra maid and kitchen hand Howard had sprung for would probably have next to nothing to do. But hopefully, somewhere in amongst their clash of wills, Mr Jarvis had heard the message that she and Daniel counted him as a friend, who was invited to their wedding in his own right. 

“Daniel will know exactly where you’ve gone,” she continued.  “In fact, he winked at us as we left the room. If they need anything, someone will fetch you.  Now, sit — Peggy’s orders.”

He sat stiffly with a look of longsuffering, but when he leaned back into his chair there was a perceptible sigh of contentment.

“What do we have today?” asked Peggy, peeking under the lid of the teapot.

“Lapsang,” he replied. “I thought the day at the beach might necessitate a more fortifying cup.”

“Marvellous.”  She started nibbling on a square of garibaldi while he poured the tea with a practised hand.

“You’ve had a lovely day for it,” he remarked.

“We have,” she agreed.  “Daniel and I felt a little chilly when we got out of the water, but the Taunton lot couldn’t stop raving about how warm it is for November.”

“You and Chief Sousa are fully acclimatised Californians now.”

“I suppose we are,” said Peggy, privately thinking she had a long way to go to catch up with Jarvis, upon whose brow no drop of sweat had ever dared appear since he’d arrived here.  Lesser butlers would have melted away to nothing inside his customary three-piece wool suits. “And how has your afternoon been, Mr Jarvis? Did you and Ana avail yourselves of the empty house?”

“We did,” said Mr Jarvis, “after I drove Chief Thompson home for a change of clothes.  We were grateful for a few hours to put the final embellishments on the cake. Ana has such a wonderful eye for decoration of any sort.  I hope you will be satisfied that the finished result is both festive and elegant. All that remains is for me to assemble the tiers on Friday morning, and hope that our efforts are not brought to ruin by poor construction.”

“I’m sure it will be an architectural and artistic masterpiece, Mr Jarvis.”

They heard footsteps approaching that belonged to a pair of bare little feet.  “Why are you sitting out here?” asked Katie curiously.

“We’re having afternoon tea,” said Peggy, inhaling the robust, smoky aroma wafting from her cup.  Fortifying, indeed.

“Like a tea party?”  Katie wandered over and peered at the tea tray.  “May I have some tea?”

“I fear it may be rather a strong flavour for you, Miss Katie,” said Mr Jarvis.  Her face fell.

“I’ll tell you what,” said Peggy.  “Why don’t we make a cup for Tio Daniel?  We can give you the tray so you can carry it through to him.”

Mr Jarvis proclaimed this a splendid idea, and Katie brightened at once.  Peggy started shifting things off the tray, while Mr Jarvis took one of the spare teacups he had brought out just in case, and instructed Katie to place the tea strainer across it while he poured.  “Now, the milk must go in afterwards,” he told her. “Would you like to pour it? Your uncle takes just a dash. Perfect. And he doesn’t take sugar, so you may stir it now. Very gently: a lady never makes a clang and a racket with her spoon.”  He gave Peggy a pained look, which she faced down boldly. “Stir back and forth once, twice, and that is perfectly sufficient. Beautifully done, if I may say so, Miss Katie.”

“Should I bring him a cookie, too?” asked Katie, eyeing up the plate of treats eagerly.

“Certainly.”

“He likes the Empire biscuits,” said Peggy with a wink, pointing to the iced sandwich biscuits oozing with glossy jam.

Mr Jarvis gave her a side plate to put it on.  “And, of course, if he’s having a biscuit, he’ll need a napkin,” he added, handing one to Katie so she could tuck it under the plate.  “There. I think that is a very neatly arranged tea tray, wouldn’t you agree, Miss Carter?”

“Quite lovely,” she agreed.  “Tio Daniel will be thrilled.”

As Katie carried the tray with exquisite care (though whether all the tea would make it to Daniel still in the cup was by no means certain), Peggy had to suppress a smile.  Daniel had once been offered a cup of tea by Mr Jarvis, which he had been too polite to refuse. And, of course, having accepted once, he soon found himself being plied with tea at every opportunity.  The longer it went on, the more his heart quailed at the thought of revealing that he didn’t actually like it. He manfully swallowed down cup after cup for months, with Peggy watching on in amusement, refusing to come to his aid and suggest to Mr Jarvis that he might prefer coffee.  The day that Daniel had accidentally let slip in the SSR break room that he had a real hankering for a cup of tea was one she would not let him forget in a hurry.

They heard the unmistakable swell of laughter that meant Daniel was getting a ribbing from the others, and a minute later Katie came skipping back outside with the empty tray.  “Tio Daniel says to tell you he thinks I’d make a very good butler, because I provide service he never asked for!”

“Quite right, Miss Katie,” said Mr Jarvis, while Peggy snorted into her teacup.  Jarvis let Katie take an Empire biscuit of her own, and commended her for a job well done.

“You are so good with them,” said Peggy once Katie had gone back inside.

“As are you, Miss Carter.”

Peggy shook her head.  “I am rather out of my depth with children, if I’m honest.  I seem to be constantly thinking on my feet, scrambling for what to say next.  When I first met them all last year, I thought I hadn’t felt so unprepared since I was a new recruit!”

“Well, only think how splendidly you rose to meet _that_ challenge,” said Mr Jarvis sincerely.  He received an ungrateful scoff for his trouble.  “In any case, thinking on your feet is precisely what one does with children.  The main thing is to try and remind oneself how to be entertained by the small things in life.  It may not seem remarkable to you or me, but a tea party with real tea might be thrilling beyond words to her.”

“I suppose,” said Peggy pensively.  “But that’s the sort of thing I mean — you and Daniel and Ana seem to know these things instinctively, whereas I’ve been getting by so far on lucky guesses.  I do wish someone would compile a comprehensive file of all matters likely to be of interest to children. Organised by age, preferably. With appendices covering how food consumption and time zones affect conversational mood.”  She was only half joking.

“Miss Carter, you are going to be an aunt, not an undercover operative.  It is not study that you require; merely time. If I may say so, you have been accustomed to excelling at everything you do.  Regardless of how others have valued your contributions, you have had the comfort of being certain within yourself of your abilities.  It’s only natural that you won’t have the same confidence when tackling an entirely new sort of challenge. 

“In any case, you underestimate yourself.  I have already observed you to be thoughtful, firm, caring and amusing when required.  And even with no effort at all, I can assure you that you will always have the advantage of being endlessly fascinating to them.”

“What on earth do you mean?” said Peggy.

“Come now, Miss Carter.  You don’t imagine they’ve ever met anyone quite like you before?”

“I suppose not,” she said self-consciously, starting to feel uncomfortable under the weight of so many compliments.

“I’m sure they raved about you to all their friends the day after they met you.  And their beloved uncle, who has been off saving the world for most of their lives, is about to marry you, so you _must_ be interesting.”

“Well, of course, that’s precisely why we’ve not yet told them about Thanksgiving,” said Peggy, forgetting again to call it a wedding.  “Not that we really expect Dottie to have placed spies in a little school in Massachusetts, but you never know what might slip out.”

“Will you tell them tonight?”

“Tomorrow.  They’re so tired.  Ines says everybody needs an early night and a good sleep.  You do think they’ll be pleased?”

“I have no doubts whatsoever,” he said.  “I rather expect we will be treated to a chorus of ear-splitting shrieks.”

Peggy gave a laugh that was half a groan.  “I can’t tell you how glad I will be when all this fuss and ceremony is over!”

“Oh?  I’m rather enjoying it!”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“The atmosphere, you know, the anticipation!” he said, brimming with enthusiasm.  “Everyone gathered for a single purpose, happy and well looked after, ready to enjoy a momentous family occasion.  Agents poised and ready to face whatever danger might be lurking. It’s quite invigorating, really!”

Inwardly, this summary of events rather delighted her, but she couldn’t help but wet-blanket him when he acted like an over-excited puppy.  “You know,” she said, in the grumpiest voice she could muster, “you meet a nice chap, he asks you to marry him and you think, Why not? We make a good team.  I’m sure we’ll have a jolly good life together, just the two of us, and that’s all there is to it. No one ever warns you how odd it feels to find yourself suddenly attached to a whole ready-made family.  However lovely they are, however welcoming, you never quite speak the same language. It’s not a fair fight anymore: you’re outflanked and outnumbered. Never mind that _your_ family is on the other side of the Atlantic and can’t bolster your numbers, or that even if they were here, they’d be too terribly British and polite to make their presence felt.  I suppose I should be thankful they’re not around to complicate things further.” She was on a roll now. “Don’t you sometimes think this whole institution would be an awful lot easier if people didn’t come with families in tow?”

She waited for the barrage of undaunted optimism, but Mr Jarvis said nothing.  He had turned his face away and was staring fixedly at a wrought iron light fitting in the wall.

With horror, Peggy realised what she’d said.  “Oh, Mr Jarvis, I didn’t think...please, forgive me.  Of course, I didn’t really mean that!”

Ana’s family had never made it out of the Reich.  A large family of in-laws was not something that Mr Jarvis had ever had to deal with in his marriage.

“There is nothing to forgive, Miss Carter,” he said levelly, turning back to face her.  “Every situation is unique, and I would never presume to minimise any challenge you face, simply because we have faced others.”

Peggy felt wretched.  What a thoughtless comment to make.  She did love Daniel’s vibrant and affectionate family, and really, if the worst that could be said about them was that the children occasionally became a little tiresome after a long day, she clearly had nothing to complain about.  And Ana was always so sunny and cheerful, despite the tremendous losses she had endured in the last cruel decade.

“Did you ever...meet them?” asked Peggy tentatively.  “Ana’s family?”

He was matter-of-fact in his reply.  “I met her parents together, once, at the tailor’s shop.  Her father was a kindly, intelligent man, and he seemed to me to be the sort that one could converse with for hours at a time and never find dull.”  Peggy smiled sadly. “Her mother, you may imagine, was a beautiful woman, though she already seemed to carry a great weight of sadness and worry. I then met her father once more, the night he brought Ana to me at the airstrip so that we could make our escape.” 

Peggy didn’t press him for details.  She could only imagine what a heart-wrenching farewell that would have been.  Had Ana’s father known that it would be the last time he saw his daughter, or had he still hoped that he would find a way to get the rest of the family out?  Could he have imagined, then, how bad things would get? And what must Ana have felt as she watched her homeland disappear beneath the clouds, her love for one man tearing her apart from another, heading towards an unknowable future with its own dangers and fears?

“There is one thing, however, that I deeply regret,” continued Jarvis in a voice checked by carefully controlled emotion, “and that is, that I never met her sisters.  She had four, you know, and she talks of them so fondly. They sound like they were lively little characters” – he gave an affectionate chuckle – “but, of course, it’s hard to know how much one idealises people in one’s memory.  I suspect, for all of us, our childhoods were both better and worse, and far more ordinary, than we suppose.”

Peggy turned her teacup around in her hand, running her thumbs along its scalloped edge.  It was tempting to steer the conversation to less uncomfortable territory, perhaps take up the matter of how unreliable were people’s memories in general, but something made her press on.  “And what of your family? Has Ana met them?” She had often wondered if there were a host of Jarvises back home, and what they had made of Edwin’s extraordinary marriage. She'd never liked to ask.

Mr Jarvis looked again to the light fixture in the wall while he took a breath.  Then he turned back to her with a grim smile.

“My father refused to see us after our marriage.  The dishonourable discharge, you know, as well as...well, anyhow, he is butler to the Earl of Strafford.  It wasn’t seemly.”

Peggy closed her eyes and almost wished she hadn’t asked.  She couldn’t bear to think of her dear friend knocking piteously at some enormous baroque door (comically exaggerated in her mind’s eye), filled with pain, grief, and no doubt rage...finally forced to turn away into the street, with a wife to look after and nothing but his tarnished reputation to recommend him.  No wonder he had attached himself without reserve to Howard and gladly made a new home over here.

“You didn’t keep in touch with anyone from back home?” she asked.

“My mother passed away many years ago, but I did contact my sister after the war.  I’m happy to say we have corresponded since then. When I last saw my family, my little nieces were only five and nine years old, and my nephews just entering their teens.  Now, of course, the girls are young ladies, and Algie is at the University of Reading, making his mother very proud. It beggars belief, when in my mind he’s still skinning his knees and firing his pea-shooter into the garden shed.  Poor Jeremy would have been twenty-two this year, but I’m afraid...we lost him, at Normandy. You know how it was.”

Peggy did know. 

“Have you never thought of going back and seeing your sister?” she asked.  “You could have come with us, you know, in September. Howard did offer. We could have left you in England while we met up with the 107th.”

Mr Jarvis shook his head.  “Frances would never openly defy our father, nor would I ask her to.  And as for the children, tempting though it would be to try and see them, it would require them to lie to their grandfather.  Frances sends me photographs, and that must suffice for the present. No doubt the younger ones have forgotten all about me by now.  I don’t know what she tells them if they ever ask.”

“They would never forget you, Mr Jarvis.  Of that I am quite certain.”

“You are too kind, Miss Carter.”

Peggy poured herself the last dregs of the tea, wishing she had something more comforting to say.  It was stone cold and black as tar by now, but the action filled the silence. In all their adventures together, she had really only perceived the merest edges of the strength with which he held together his little family.  She felt a fresh wave of anger at the senseless act of violence that had robbed them of the future they might have had, that could have gone some way towards healing the hurts of the past.

“You must not think that we are bitter,” he said gently, watching her brow furrowed in thought.  “Who among us has not suffered losses from the war? Of course, neither Ana nor myself would have wished to be cut off from our families as we have been, but we made our choice, and we stand by it gladly.  There is little enough that one may choose when it comes to family, except for whom one marries. As you yourself will discover soon enough, that choice quickly supersedes all the other things that are outside of our control.  I may grieve for sisters whom I never met, but I can bear it for the joy of the life that was saved, that has been vouchsafed to me. And you may find that joining Chief Sousa’s family, though overwhelming in some regards, soon becomes but a joyous extension of the life you are building together.  I have no doubt that you will navigate these waters with your usual aplomb.”

She waved the compliment away as usual, but her heart latched onto his words with relief.  She loved Daniel with all her soul, but at some point this week a little shard of anxiety had lodged itself like shrapnel inside her mind, and she wasn’t sure it could be entirely attributed to the looming threat of Dottie Underwood.  It had been one thing to make their plans when it was all far in the distance, joking about ‘Operation Thanksgiving’ as though it were any other mission, but as the day drew closer she was starting to think about all the changes that were about to happen.  Leaving her dear friends and this happy home with all its memories — no more afternoon tea with Mr Jarvis, no more bangs and yells and pungent fumes emanating from Howard’s lab.  Secretly, there was a very real part of her that was going to grieve the loss. She could only hope that Mr Jarvis was right, and everything would look different from the other side.

“We should go back inside,” she said, stacking up her cup, saucer and plate before her thoughts could completely run away on her.

“Allow me.”  He took the plates from her and re-stacked them the way he preferred.  “I shall miss our little ritual,” he said, his eyes fixed on the tray.

She threw him a crooked half smile and quickly turned to go back to the house.

“Miss Carter,” he called before she had gone two paces.  He cleared his throat and gripped the tray tightly. “I know, of course, that Chief Sousa has his own vehicle, and you will naturally travel to work together from now on.  But...if you ever do find yourself...short of transport...”

Peggy forced back a smile.  “You will be my first call, Mr Jarvis,” she said earnestly.  “But you must promise me one thing in return.” She fiddled with her earring and turned her head nonchalantly to the side.  “If Howard can ever spare you around four o’clock on a Sunday, you must consider yourself to have an open invitation to Daniel’s... _our_...house.”

Mr Jarvis’ face remained passive, though his eyes sparkled.  “If you would be so good as to provide the tea, Miss Carter,” he said, nodding at her to walk ahead of him, “I shall bring the biscuits.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1948 current events:
> 
> Truman had just been re-elected a few weeks ago (well, technically he wasn't actually elected the first time, but I don't know what else you call that); Gandhi was assassinated back in January of this year; the Foley Square trial of 12 communist leaders was in preliminary proceedings at this stage, and had been a hot topic throughout Truman's campaign; it was a tumultuous time over in Israel after WWII, with the State of Israel being declared in May of this year, precipitating a 10-month-long Arab-Israeli war.
> 
> Now, we have to talk a bit about the fate of many Jews in Hungary in WWII, but I warn you, it's awful.
> 
> Hungary joined the Axis powers right from the word go, but for a few years they had a Prime Minister who resisted German pressure to deport all Jews to extermination camps. Still, it wasn't a fun time and place to be Jewish, and there were a bunch of restrictions on what they could and couldn't do, just like everywhere under Nazi influence. A lot of Jewish men were sent to the Soviet front in unarmed labour service units, where the casualty rate was high.
> 
> Then in 1944, Hungary got a bit too cosy with the US and UK, so Hitler invaded and occupied Hungary in March of that year. By May (and this is where it gets truly awful), they began deporting Jews to Auschwitz on cattle trains at a rate of around 12,000 people a day. Yes, you read that right. By July, around 10 weeks later, 437,000 Jews had been deported. SImple mathematics will tell you that Auschwitz couldn't possibly hold that many people, and around 75% were executed on arrival.
> 
> So it was sudden and brutal, and I can imagine that many families thought, after surviving a few years of the war, that the Holocaust could never come to Hungary, and once it did, there was simply no time and no means to escape. I am imagining that Jarvis got Ana out fairly early on in the war (it's tricky to piece together the timeline from the information we get on the show), and that her parents were happy enough to know she was out of danger, but did hope that they would all be able to join them in England one day. Obviously they would have needed more letters of transit to get out, and perhaps Jarvis tried, and Howard tried, but for whatever reason they couldn't make it work. And then, very suddenly, it was too late.
> 
> I wanted to flesh out this backstory for Jarvis and Ana, because I have always been intrigued by Peggy's line: "You may be the strongest of us all." Yes, he has shown great strength, but the strongEST? That's a heck of a claim, compared to people in the room who have dedicated their lives to this cause, when really he has just been having a jolly time of it until very recently. I've wondered if she's just trying to over-compensate for the awful things she said in the desert. Then I thought about what he and Ana might have gone through, but how could Peggy know about all that? Jarvis does seem hesitant to talk about it unless he absolutely has to. So my theory here is that she WAS overstating things a bit at the time, but perhaps had a bit of an idea of the sort of things they must have gone through in the war. I wanted to bring that comment full-circle, and give Peggy a chance to see exactly how strong he has had to be over the years.
> 
> Oh, and garibaldi is a slice with currants squashed between two layers of biscuit base :-)


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